Wylde Magic | Book 3

Sixty Four: The Pinnacle of Magic (part 2)

The situation was bleak, but I couldn't just stand there and allow the havoc to continue. Bara Khalja stood atop a mound of moved earth, grinning down at everything laid bare before him. And in that moment I could see us in his eyes as he must see us.

The fae were broken and scattered, he had already hit two of the major cities and broke their courts apart in the process. The third had managed some semblance of evasion, but the fourth was under the control of someone he had somehow allied with. The witches were here, and yet he had dealt with my mother before with ease. I'm sure the gathered sisters were no threat in his mind. The elves may or may not have come as a surprise, depending on what he could recognize in them when he encountered Teyber and the other scouts that had gone with Lark to rescue Nassir twenty years ago. And among the broken and scattered forces fighting back against his army our deaths would only become fodder to more of his wicked magic.

The pit before him was now the final treat, an open pile of bones, ancient and blessed by the elves, ripe for the shaping into more minions for Bara Khalja.

His eyes swept over me, lingering only long enough to shine amusement before continuing on to other sights of interest. I clenched my fists at my side, tears stinging my eyes. This was madness. No matter what we did, what I could throw at Bara Khalja, he defended himself at every turn.

I could feel the warm presence behind me before I felt the hand on my shoulder. Even outside of his lands, the Spring King scattered warm spring winds around him.

Turning to speak with him, I was surprised that the hand on my shoulder was not the king himself, but one of his most trusted attendees who stood between his king and the Wylde Witch.

"Caldon," I murmured. His long pink braid was disheveled and his dark complexion was speckled in blood that didn't appear to be his. I had no idea he was any sort of fighter, his nature was so...soothing.

My eyes darted around the rest of Diamid's close entourage. The king himself had a powerful air about him, but even more surprising than the Spring king who had stayed out of the fighting until now was the petite form to his left. Krissaph, the succubus that had perplexed me since our first meeting, was spattered in even more blood than Caldon, her triquetram. She offered me a sly smile as she licked one of her fingers clean with a seductive pout of her lips. The small moan that followed the completely unnecessary action sent a shiver down my spine and that of everyone around her save for King Diamid and her own triquetram.

"Is that the warlock?" Caldon asked and I nodded confirmation.

"The reports weren't exaggerated," Diamid said, almost board as he looked up to Bara Khalja who's focus was now directing to the recently arrived Autumn court.

I saw the incoming danger and stepped forward, only to be pulled back by Caldon's hands on both shoulders this time.

"We have some things to clear up," Diamid's commanding voice said behind me.

I strained against Caldon's grip. "Eberon needs me!" 

"No, he does not," Diamid insisted.

I was about to protest when a flash of fire shot up from the group of risen dead that Bara Khalja had summoned in front of Eberon. A pillar of fire that should by all accounts be out of his capabilities scorched through bone and tendon until there was nothing left but ash.

My lips parted in surprise as I absorbed Diamid's next words.

"Do not underestimate a king of the Wyldes. The same court that blessed Baeleon with his impossible strength has further blessed what Eberon already had."

I turned to face the Spring king, calmer now and wanting to use our sparse moments of calm in the battle as quickly as possible. "What is it you wanted me to know?"